Torchbearer
by Arbiter08
Summary: There are those who carry the torch until they can carry it no more. Then, like all other things, it must be passed on. Contains blood and gore. Revised Sep 20th.


Pain was all I could feel. Crushing, grinding pain as my armor itself, the very thing that had saved my life many times over, was now killing me. The metal coat that was like a second skin to me was piercing and twisting itself into my arms, splitting the skin and snapping bone. Then, I felt as if everything but the pain had drifted away from me. My arms stretched upwards as I opened my eyes to find that I was falling. I watched as bricks fell alongside me, all heading for the same destination: the floor. I landed on a pile of bricks, which jutted into my back. I felt something pierce my armor, then my lower half went numb. My vision was receeding. Dark spots swam into my view. My helmet jerked upwards as a shadow passed over the newly made hole in the ceiling. A giant, putrid demon with a great hammer stared down the hole at me. I could still see my blood on it's cudgel. It turned away and lumbered off. It knew what I knew.

I was done for.

I would be too, except for one thing. "Liquid Hope" some called it. Me, I called it Estus. I dropped my sword, letting it clatter to the ground. Using my now free hand, I reached for my belt and grabbed onto a small flask. Pain shot up my arm as broken bones and torn muscles obeyed my commands. If it weren't the fact that what I was reaching for could fix all of this, I would have given up right then. But I kept on reaching. Soon, my hands clasped the emerald flask. I was filled with hope as I heard the miraculous liquid swishing around inside. However, as soon as I opened the cap, disaster struck. That disaster came in the form of a giant steel ball crashing through the nearby wall and into me. I gritted my teeth in pain as the ball crashed into my shield, still attached to my arm from my earlier bout with the Asylum Demon. The sheer force of the ball crushing against me impaled me on the bricks behind me. The Estus in my hand clattered across the room, skipping across the water until it came to a rest on the opposing wall.

A splash drew my attention away from my last chance of survival as a figure entered the room. It's dark, wrinkled skin was one clue as to it's identity. The other was the darksign burning on the back of it's hand. I braced myself for it's inevitable mad attack, but nothing happened. I looked up at it, only to see something in it's eyes. A glimmer of intelligence. This was no madman.

"…Oh, you… You're no Hollow, eh?" I asked, swallowing the pain in moving my certainly fractured jaw. It gave me a shallow nod in return.

"…Thank goodness. I'm done for, I'm afraid." I said, realizing that no amount of Estus would heal these wounds. "I'll die soon, then lose my sanity…" I thought of the future. My corpse would sit here until I lost all of what made me human. All things that make a man whole would slowly drain away. Leaving me nothing more then a shell of what I am now. Leaving me hollow.

I remembered my childhood, all those days spent as a steward to Astorian knights. Learning to become what I am now. I remembered my family, my father and his boundless sense of honor. My kind, caring mum, and her endless amount of stories. Tales of kings and queens. Brave knights slaying mighty dragons, rescuing beautiful princesses and living happily ever after; and my favorite story, the one that was supposed to be my own. The family prophecy.

I thought back to the thing that drew me here. It had been passed down in our family from generation to generation, waiting for the right time. That time had come. That prophecy was more important then any single one of us, and now, it would never come to completion. With a heavy heart, I knew. I, Oscar of Astora, had failed. There was no one to complete the prophecy now that I was finished. The world would be consumed by darkness, all because I failed to beat a fat demon with a cudgel.

Then, a glimmer of hope. An idea sprung into my dying mind, something that I would never even consider should my blood not be flowing out of me like a river. 'The prophecy is mine to fulfill! It's my destiny!' Part of me thought, but the other half thought differently. It knew I could not complete it. Finishing it was more important then just a single Astoran knight far away from home's wants. Before I could change my mind, I spoke.

"I wish to ask something of you. You and I, we're both Undead… Hear me out, will you?" It inclined it's head, prompting me to go on further. I hesitated, then forged onwards.

"Regrettably, I have failed in my mission …But perhaps you can keep the torch lit." I whispered. With every word I spoke my throat became drier and drier. My resolve shriveled in light of the words I spoke. I don't know how much longer I could keep this up.

"There is an old saying in my family…"

"…Thou who art Undead, art chosen…

In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum,

maketh pilgrimage to-"

I coughed, pain racking my body.

"-the land of Ancient Lords.

When thou ringeth the Bell of Awakening,

the fate-"

I coughed once more, hacking up a glob of a dark red liquid. My time was running out, I could tell.

"-of the Undead-"

I swallowed, gulping down something thick.

"-thou shalt know..."

"…Well, now you know… and I can die with hope in my heart…" I said, sinking into the bricks behind me. Sinking into what would surely be my grave. The not-hollow turned around, but I grabbed his attention one last time.

" …Oh, one more thing… Here, take this." I pointed over to the emerald flask in the corner.

"…An Estus Flask, an Undead favourite." 'I certainly wouldn't have any use for it anymore.' I said, only thinking the last portion. I remembered one other thing, something it'd almost certainly need to escape.

"…Oh, and this…" I forced out, turning my hand upwards, revealing a key in the palm of my hand. I had gotten it off of a hollowed guardsmen right before he fell into one of the cells. He had another key on him, but I didn't realize it until he had already fallen in. I just hope that the person in front of me can escape with this key.

The not-hollow grabbed it carefully.

"Now I must bid farewell…" I announced quietly. "I would hate to harm you after death, so, go now…"

The not-hollow grabbed the flask. He walked along the wall opposite me, his steps towards the door each making a splash in the now crimson puddle beneath our feet. Once he stepped into the door frame, he turned around once more.

"…And thank you…" I said, the last words I ever would say in this world.

The not-hollow disappeared from the door frame. Taking with him the torch I had passed on. That torch can save the world, once it was used to kindle the First Flame all the darkness will disappear. The torch it was carrying was a bigger burden then it could possibly imagine, but it was more important then it could imagine too. Without that torch, and it's bearer, humanity will flicker out of existence.

Many trials it will face, and it shall need an unprecedented amount of perseverance, but when it overcomes the trials and challenges in it's path, the torch shall burn even brighter. What was nothing but a few cinders can turn into a roaring bonfire, but only if they persevere through all of the trials and tribulations ahead of them.

All of these thoughts ran through my head as my life slowly faded away, until, like a candle in the wind, it went out.


End file.
